You start to wonder about your classes. You hope that you haven't missed any since you got back. To check, you go to the front office and ask.
"I'll need to see your school ID." The desk clerk gives you a pleasant smile.
"Uh, I lost it." You answer sheepishly.
"Okay... Then do you know your ID number?"
"Nooo..." You look as innocent as possible.
The clerk sighs, then says "I can't help you then. If you are a student here and have just forgotten, then take it up with the counseling office. Now, if you don't mind, there are people lining up behind you."
What a jerk.
You leave and go to the counseling building. As you enter, your heart skips a beat, your blood freezes, and you stagger back a step. The room across from you is filled with a frigid, ghostly aura, sending fingers of dread arcing toward you and rending your soul apart. You just
know that it's aware of your presence, just as you are aware of it. You feel as if you are staring into the jaws of death. You look at the nameplate:
Anne Price,
Counselor
You go to the desk in the center of the room, every step getting you closer to the yawning maw of absolute oblivion, just daring you to get closer and knock on the door.
You arrive at the main desk.
"I, uh, wanted to ask about getting a replacement ID," you say, keeping your horrifying thoughts at bay.
The student attending the desk shifts through some paperwork and hands you a green form. "Just fill this out and... Hey, are you alright? You look kind of pale."
"I-I'm fine," you stammer, taking the form.
You grab a pen and try to fill out the form, but your hands won't stop shaking. You look at them, expecting your normal, healthy hands, but instead you see five-digit claws covered in sickening, transparent parchment. You look away, but the image burns in your mind. You summon the willpower to ignore the fear, and fill the form out to the best of your ability.
The student the paper from you and puts it in the 'to be processed' box. "That should be done in, like, a day or something." She looks at you with fear in her eyes. "Uh, maybe you should go to the nurse or something," she says with genuine concern in her voice. "You look like you're going to die, like, right now."
"I'm fine," you repeat, but without the stammer. "But thank you." You walk out the door, going to great lengths to keep your pace below a dead sprint.
You enter into the blessed sunshine and feel yourself bathed in the light of life. The terror of the office's interior is annihilated by the torrential downpour of warmth and your blood returns to the surface.
I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!